


saying your names

by lipsstainedbloodred



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Marking, More sensual than sexual, Wings, this is the most tender thing i think i've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 17:58:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19399414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lipsstainedbloodred/pseuds/lipsstainedbloodred
Summary: “Darling boy,” Aziraphale says in the space between kisses, lips pressed wet and swollen to Crowley’s throat. He could spend all night, this day and the next, on this little patch of skin just here where his heart beats rapid and strong. He digs his teeth in. Crowley moans, a broken sound that ends in a hitch and a gasp as Aziraphale swipes his tongue across the mark.Marks, dotted, littered like stars across a pale throat and lithe torso. The insides of his thighs. The back of his knees.





	saying your names

**Author's Note:**

> “Makes a cathedral, him pressing against me, his lips at my neck, and yes, I do believe his mouth is heaven, his kisses falling over me like stars.” - Richard Siken

“Darling boy,” Aziraphale says in the space between kisses, lips pressed wet and swollen to Crowley’s throat. He could spend all night, this day and the next, on this little patch of skin just here where his heart beats rapid and strong. He digs his teeth in. Crowley moans, a broken sound that ends in a hitch and a gasp as Aziraphale swipes his tongue across the mark.

Marks, dotted, littered like stars across a pale throat and lithe torso. The insides of his thighs. The back of his knees. 

“Sweetheart.” Here his hands trip across the demon’s ribcage, light and teasing, leaving little pimples of goose flesh in their wake. He makes it to Crowley’s hips and _squeezes_ , thumbs rubbing against bone, fingers tapping _1-2_ , _1-2,_ against his back. Crowley ducks his head down, trying to nudge Aziraphale into giving him a kiss. 

Aziraphale obliges, pulling away from pale skin for supple lips. Crowley is more panting against his mouth than anything, overwhelmed and a bit out of his skin. There’s a lovely little patch of scales trailing behind his right ear and Aziraphale ghosts his fingers over it.

“My dear.” Aziraphale breathes. He cups Crowley’s cheek with his hand. Can’t stop staring at his half-lidded eyes and kiss sore swollen mouth. How long have they been here? Aziraphale never wants to leave. He wants to stay in this bed forever, kiss Crowley forever, cover every inch of him in adoration. 

“Aziraphale,” Crowley whines, “ _please_.” He looks undone, hair ungelled and sweeping over his forehead, sweat shining across his neck and chest. If Aziraphale were to drag his tongue across it, it would have no flavor. He does, now, running his tongue across sharp collar bones and down to dip into his navel. Crowley winds his fingers in Aziraphale’s hair and pulls so hard it almost hurts.

“Shh,” Aziraphale soothes, pressing a biting kiss to Crowley’s hip. “Easy, love, we have time.”

“Angel.” Crowley shifts restlessly. His body slips across ivory silk sheets. He is impatient, looking for an end when they have so much time ahead of them. Forever, really. Aziraphale could keep him here forever. 

Aziraphale hums. “I know darling,” He says, “I know it’s hard. Be good for me though, you can be good."

Crowley hisses, Azirapahle’s mouth between his legs, licking and sucking and biting at the sensitive skin of his pelvis. He ignores where Crowley wants him to go. Renews the marks on Crowley’s thighs - Lord, how he adores Crowley’s thighs - and makes new ones further down on his ankle. Comes back up for a kiss when Crowley pulls at his shoulder. He’s a needy, wanton, wanting thing, gasping broken breaths against the angel’s mouth. 

Aziraphale slides his hands up slim thighs, slender waist, bony chest to rest against both sides of his lovely neck. “Lovely.” He kisses the side of Crowley’s mouth, then his cheek. “You’re so beautiful, Crowley. Did you know?”

“You’ve told me.” Crowley’s breath hitches as Aziraphale slides against him just right.

“Not enough,” Aziraphale kisses the shell of his ear, the glimmering black scales behind it, “Not nearly enough. Turn over for me.”

“ _No_ , Aziraphale,” Crowley wraps his limbs around the angel. It feels like he has more than he should, pulling Aziraphale close and closer. “Can’t wait any longer. I want-”

“Oh, my _star_.” Aziraphale kisses his forehead, under his eye, his mouth again but centered. Again and again until Crowley relaxes under him. “Light of my life, my sweet darling, I know what you want.” His hands are everywhere. Crowley’s chest, his hips, cupping under those beautiful thighs so gentle but steady. “I’ll give it to you, you know I will, but you have to be patient for me. A little longer, that’s all I ask.”

Crowley sobs, pressing their cheeks together. He tugs on Aziraphale’s hair, his body shaking. When he lets go his eyes are bleary. He looks so sweet like this.

“Okay?” Aziraphale asks.

Crowley nods, barely. Aziraphale just strokes his thighs. “Yeah,” Crowley says after a minute, “Yes. Okay.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” Crowley jerks his leg, glaring. It’s so childishly petulant Aziraphale can’t help but laugh.

Crowley kicks Aziraphale, just a little, pretending like it was an accident. Aziraphale can’t be mad, not when Crowley’s back side is just as beautiful as his front. 

“Love,” Aziraphale murmurs, running his hand over Crowley’s spine. “Oh, my love.” 

There’s a bigger patch of scales on Crowley’s lower back and Aziraphale presses his face against it, smooth and cool. He drops kisses along them like a promise, like a prayer. Crowley squirms under him. “Stop,” He mumbles. Crowley’s always been self conscious about the little bits of himself that show through his human veneer; but Aziraphale loves these spots, can’t stop petting them once he starts.

“I love these,” Aziraphale says, petting the edge where white flesh meets black scale, “I love you.”

He hears Crowley curse and drag the edge of a pillow into his mouth. “I love you too.” Comes the muffled response a few seconds later. 

Aziraphale hums lightly and lets his hands wander. Down over the soft skin of Crowley’s buttocks to the backs of his thighs and across his calves. He works his way back up with his mouth, fills Crowley’s back with marks like stars, like constellations, like the universe. Crowley hung the stars, once. Aziraphale does so now. His fingers dance between Crowley’s shoulder blades and the demon whines, pressing flatter against the bed.

His wings unfurl slow and sweet, dark against the white of the bed, and Aziraphale kisses these too. He presses his mouth against the base where wing meets flesh and bites down. Crowley yelps and jerks against him, his hands curling into fists. “Beloved,” Aziraphale whispers, laving his tongue over the bite to soothe. He rests his cheek against the soft down of black feathers, closing his eyes. “My heart. My only one.”

“Angel,” Crowley whimpers, “Aziraphale, angel, _please_.”

“A little longer, starshine.” 

Aziraphale smooths his hands over dark feathers, tugging crooked ones back into line and placing bare breath kisses to the ends. He kisses the back of Crowley’s neck, his shoulder, drags his tongue down his spine until Crowley is sobbing and squirming under him.

“Mine.” Aziraphale says, softly, like he’s tasting it on his tongue for the first time. He’s not. Crowley has always been his. Just as he has always been Crowley’s. “Mine. My darling demon, my dearest friend, my only love.”

“ _Angel_ .” Crowley gasps. “ _Love_.”

He sounds so sweet, hiccuping for breath. There’s tears on his face, Aziraphale is sure, and even those would be sweet. He’s radiant and luminescent and he’s all Aziraphale’s. Aziraphale reaches a hand underneath him and it just takes the barest nudge, the simplest of strokes, to have Crowley fall apart beneath him with a gasping cry of his name.

“ _Crowley_ ,” Aziraphale says. Rolls him over so he can kiss him, taste the tears on his mouth and catch the sweet sounds still tripping across his tongue. Presses Crowley deep into the mattress, wings vanished or incorporeal in the space between where they normally go. “Alright, my dear?” He asks. “Too much?”

Crowley is slack mouthed, dazedly staring at the ceiling. Slowly, he wraps his arms around Aziraphale’s shoulders and grins. He kisses Aziraphale’s cheek, his brow, the corner of his mouth. He huffs a laugh and the corners of his eyes crinkle. “Not enough.” He says, even though his body is tingling and he still has tear tracks on his face, “Not ever enough.”

“Greedy.” Aziraphale teases, lips pressed to his temple, curling his fingers around dark red hair. “Wicked little thing you are, but so lovely too.”

“Hush,” Crowley says, “I’m all sticky now.” He wriggles uncomfortably, “And in dire need of a nap.”

Aziraphale miracles a flannel and cleans Crowley’s belly. While he’s at it the sheets beneath them clean themselves and the lights in the room dim to almost nothing. “Sleep then,” Aziraphale says. He drops the flannel and it vanishes before it can hit the ground. “I’m not stopping you.”

Crowley pushes at Aziraphale’s chest until the angel sprawls out on his back, letting Crowley curl up against him and use his chest as a pillow. “Stay.” Crowley says. His hands clutch at Aziraphale’s body, like he’s trying to force the two of them to become one.

Aziraphale kisses the top of Crowley’s head, folding his arms around him. “Of course. I wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else.”

Crowley drifts off like that, Aziraphale’s arms around his shoulders, the angel’s mouth against his head. And sometime later, quite without meaning to, Aziraphale drifts off too.


End file.
